Page 39 of Trading Places

Bile rises at the back of my throat. I look around at the strobe neon pink and blue lights. Someone walks over with an overpowering cologne scent to make me dizzy.

“No. I didn’t.”

“I told you to be careful now you got that nigga killed.”

Fuck. It was Von.

“Tell me where Montrell is?” I ask.

“You looking for me?” Montrell’s annoying voice damn near yells as if I can’t hear him.

I turn around and place my hands on my hips. “You’ve gone too far, Montrell.” I can’t hold my tongue.

Von sits down in the section.

My father sits down in his large gold chair that he only brings out on special occasions. He’s dripping in jewelry. He’s being so arrogant because he thinks he won.

“You calling me Montrell, huh? I had everything set up for you.” He points at me. “Now you can sit back and enjoy your cushy lifestyle with Anthony.”

“Right, cause you killed Drey.”

“Who said I did anything? I’ve been here all night,” he says slyly, lifting his hands.

Kye comes over dressed in a long black dress, and her natural hair is out.

She winks at me and whispers something to my father. She hands him an envelope.

My father’s smug grin is getting on my nerves. He scans the letter, and his face drops. He tosses the paper and moves close to me. “What the fuck did you do?”

I tilt my head. “What are you talking about?”

“Anthony formally ended his engagement,” my father spits tosses in the papers.

“Well, he left me, so go ahead and tell Kye how she’s your new retirement plan.”

Kye scrunches her face and looks at me. Then she looks at our father. “What?”

“Don’t listen to her, baby girl. She’s just upset because her boyfriend is dead.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right. You didn’t have to kill Drey,” I say, covering my mouth.

“Let’s do this another time, baby,” My mother finally chimes in.

“Naw, she’s big and bold. This is the consequence of your daughter trying to play checkers with a nigga who’s been playing chess since he was a kid,” my father says.

“You killed Drey?” Kye gasps.

“I didn’t do shit,” my father says.

“Dad! I’m not marrying a man, so you can let that go,” Kye says.

“You’re going to do whatever I tell you to if you want me to continue to take care of you.”

“That’s enough. We ain’t doing shit else you say.” I pull out my gun and point at him.

“Sister, calm down,” Kye gasps. “That’s our father!”

The music stops, and my mom calmly speaks to me. “Baby, please. What are you doing?”